Castle Anthology
by hhooppyy
Summary: A collection of my entries at Castleland on livejournal that are not posted as separate stories on here already.
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Challenge: Word Prompt. The word I chose was storm.

* * *

As Rick walked out the door of the hospital unable to take the heavy silence broken only by the sounds of sobbing that filled the waiting area, he couldn't help but think that the storm raging around him was apropos. The lashing winds coupled with the pouring rain and loud claps of thunder served as a reminder that all was not right—Kate had been shot. She could die.

Soaked to the skin, Rick fell against the side of the building—feeling the bite of the rough bricks against the bare skin of his hands, which were still red with her blood, as he lashed out and punched the wall supporting him—letting his tears mingle with the rivulets of cold rain as they streaked down his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Written for the challenge: Halloween drabbles. It was based on a picture of gravestones. (I think I kind of missed the challenge a bit on this one.)

* * *

Walking through the cemetery with flowers in hand, Kate stumbled slightly on the uneven ground as tears clouded her vision. While it was always hard on her she could normally keep her grief at bay, but walking through the cemetery on that day—the anniversary—always brought it all flooding back.

Seeing those tears streaming down her face, Rick couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and reach up a hand to her cheek to wipe them away. Finally arriving at the gravestone, they knelt before it as Kate reached out and placed the flowers at the base. Shakily reaching out her hand, she traced the letters on the headstone—the indelible letters that seemed to mock her and her loss—as if trying to recapture the life she had lost. As she collapsed against the stone with a shuddering sob, Rick knew that just being there was the best comfort he could give, even if she would rather be alone.

As one final, lone tear rolled down her face, Kate stood up, placed a kiss to her fingers and pressed it against the name carved in the stone—Richard Alexander Rodgers.


	3. Chapter 3

Written for the challenge: One sentence. As the name indicates, the whole story had to be written in one sentence. This entry tied for 4th place.

* * *

The sight of the blood oozing, thick and red, from beneath Castle's body as he lay there deathly still nearly sent Kate into a frenzy; but not as much as when he popped upright and yelled: "Gotcha."


	4. Chapter 4

Written for the challenge: 26 words. For this challenge, you had 26 words to tell a story. These words had to start with the 26 letters of the alphabet with no repeats. This entry came in third.

* * *

Xanthic lightning flashes. Thunder rumbles. Power vacillates operatically. Castle zips, Kate jumps: both end underneath quilts: hugging, needing warmth.

"Don't get any smart ideas."

"Yes ma'am."


	5. Chapter 5

For this challenge we had to write a poem that contained 10 words that were given to us. My words were: twitter, detention, apostrophe, run, eyes, popular, up, ache, break, shadow. This entry tied for fourth.

* * *

Without a shadow of a doubt,  
His heart would soon be crying out.  
As it began to break—ache,  
"Oh! Please do not let me be awake!  
For I know not how much more I can take!"

He opens his eyes and they run up the column.  
He lets out a whimper; growing quite solemn.  
"Oh, but were it nothing but a dream.  
If only it weren't as popular as it seem.  
But Alas, it cannot be.  
For Look!  
There!  
Another missing apostrophe."

Sitting back in his chair with a sigh,  
He couldn't help but type out a reply.  
_Twitter should be put in detention  
For killing the English language with every mention._


	6. Chapter 6

Written for the challenge: Themed drabbles. The theme I chose was memory. This entry came in second for the prompt.

* * *

"It was a dark and stormy night—"

"Really, Castle?" Cocking her eyebrow, Beckett repositioned herself before he continued.

"Fine. It was a hot day and I was at a book signing when I heard. I raced to the hospital, getting there just in time to meet my baby girl for the first time. Wrapped in that pink blanket—tufts of hair sticking upright-she was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen." Reaching over, Castle placed a hand over Kate's on her slightly swollen belly "Although, I'm sure this one will give Alexis a run for her money."


	7. Chapter 7

Written for the challenge: Speaking in Tongues. This drabble-ish had to contain at least 10 words that were in a language other than English. Any mistakes in the translations are google translates fault. This entry came in first.

* * *

"Khoroshii detektiv utrom. Kofe?*" Setting a coffee on the desk beside Beckett, Castle sat down, pulling out his phone in the process.

Not sparing Castle a glance, Beckett grabbed the coffee cup. Allowing the warmth to suffuse through her hands, she slowly raised the cup to her lips, taking a gulp before going back to paperwork.

"Kouman ou ye maten sa a bon?**"

At Beckett's lack of response, Castle started playing with his phone. Finally, growing impatient, he asked a little more loudly than before, "Mitä sinä teet? Voinko auttaa?***?

With each second of silence that followed, Castle grew more agitated. "Beckett! Cén fáth a bhfuil neamhaird tú dom?****"

Finally, unable to ignore Castle any longer, Beckett fixed her glare on him and snapped. "Castle, what do you want?"

Holding up his phone, Castle showed her the screen. "Isn't is cool? I downloaded the Google translator app. Now I can entertain you in sixty plus different languages." With a quick flick of his finger on the screen, the list of languages flashed past. "Ooh! Yiddish!"

*Good morning detective. Coffee? (Russian)  
**How are you this fine morning? (Haitian Creole)  
***What are you doing? Can I help? (Finnish)  
****Why are you ignoring me?" (Irish)


	8. Chapter 8

Written for the challenge: 3 sentences. This entry tied for 4th.

* * *

Standing up from her desk after several hours of paperwork with a pronounced stretch, Beckett tidied up her desk before grabbing her jacket to head out for the night. Noticing that Castle had not stirred from his position in the chair beside her desk, she hastily made a decision and leaned forward to jot down a message on a sticky note from her desk—which she promptly stuck to Castle's forehead and walked away.

After several minutes had passed, Castle finally realized that he no longer had company in the bullpen; with practiced ease, he pulled the sticky note from his head—"You coming?"


	9. Chapter 9

Written for the challenge: post-ep. My episode that I had to write a post-ep for was Dial M for Mayor.

* * *

"Whaddya think?" Holding up the notepad he had been doodling on for the past hour as Beckett worked on paperwork, Castle angled it so Beckett could see.

"What is that?" Reaching out, Beckett snatched the pad from Castle hand to get a closer look.

"What's it look like? It's the header for our blog." Holding his hand up like a director visualizing a scene, Castle's eyes became slightly unfocused as his imagination took over. "Officer and a Gentleman: the musings of a writer and his muse. The website will explode as fans rush to find out more about their favourite author and the woman who inspires him to greatness." Coming back to reality, Castle dropped him hands back into his lap and focused on Beckett. "So, whaddya think?"

"Really, Castle? Greatness? How can you say that after using musings and muse in the same sentence? I thought you were better than that. Besides, I thought we nixed the idea of a blog already."

"My dear detective, I am imuch/i better than that." With a seductive eyebrow wiggle, Castle lost himself in her eyes for a couple seconds before shaking himself out of it. "And no. You never said anything about not doing it. You iimplied/i it, but you never said it. So, I have already added the blog to my website. I think we should write an introductory post together tonight and continue from there. Come over for dinner tonight and we can get started."

Before Beckett could do more than glare at him, Castle was up out of his chair and walking away.

"Don't think that you walking off means I consent. You hear me? Castle?!"

Gathering up her coat with a sigh, Beckett rushed to get on the elevator with Castle.

"So, what does this blog entail?"


	10. Chapter 10

Written for the challenge: Verbose. We had to take two quotes and make them longer.

* * *

**Original Quote:** Well, the pen is mightier than the sword, but a baseball bat can be pretty effective too.  
**Your Quote:** Well, the sharp, ink-filled instrument with which one pens the written word is more prodigious than the long, sharp, metallic implement which one uses on the battlefield; however, a long cylindrical object, be it metal or wood, which one oft times uses in the playing of the Great American Pastime—baseball—is likewise rather efficacious as well.

**Original Quote:** I just want someone to come up to me and say something new.  
**Your Quote:** My deepest desire is that a man or a woman—I care not whom—would approach and utter words hitherto not heard by mine ear.


	11. Chapter 11

Written for the Challenge: To the Letter where we had to write a letter from one character to another.

* * *

When I started this letter, I never intended to actually give it to you, but now, I think there are just too many unanswered questions to not do so. I really do need to know.

Dear Kate,

I feel rather stupid right now—writing a letter I never actually intend to deliver—but it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, when I think about it, writing this letter is kind of like writing a Pros and Cons list. If I view it that way, maybe it isn't as stupid as it seems.

Now, as to why I am writing this letter. While I have known you to some extent for years now, I think it only just hit me in this last year how important you are in my dad's life and my proxy how important you are in my own. I love my dad and what affects him affects me. At the same time, your position in my dad's life leaves him open to being hurt—not only mentally and emotionally but physically as well. My dad tried to jump in front of a bullet for you. He JUMPED in front of a BULLET! FOR YOU! After that, you just left him—no contact—for three months. Do you know how painful that was to watch? Do you? Let me tell you, it hurt to see him like that: struggling just to move—act alive—on a daily basis. And then you came back. You came back, but still you held my father at a distance. While he was physically moving again—acting more alive—the light was still missing from his eyes.

Then he nearly died in that bank. While, logically, I know you had nothing to do with that and that he would have been in that bank with or without your involvement in his life, I still blame you for that day. I know it is irrational, but I do. I blame you for his unnecessary risk taking that day. If he didn't know you, maybe he would have played the good hostage and not risked so much of my world. Or maybe not, this is my dad after all.

All of this pain you have put him through over this last year, last few years really, and now you expect us to believe that you love him? I am not sure I can believe that. Who does that to someone they claim to love? Who allows them to be in dangerous situations? Who allows them to take unnecessary risks? Who lies to them about their "love" for ten months?! (Or is it less? I want to know. How long have you "loved" my father? Is this "love" just a response to the thought of your "shadow" (lapdog?) abandoning you?)

How am I supposed to accept that you love my dad when all you have done for years now is lead him on and hurt him over and over and over again?

Alexis


	12. Chapter 12

This story was in response to the prompt:

**Category:** Pre-Series  
**Title:** The waiting game  
**Summary:** Waiting in line to get an autograph from her favorite author, Kate wondered, could this man, who she had imagined so many times, ever really live up to her fantasy.

* * *

Holding the book—_Storm Gathering_—in her hands, Kate couldn't believe she was doing this. She was standing in line to meet Richard Castle—again. The first time she had done this, she had been with her mother.

_Johanna had been adamant that they had needed one last mother-daughter bonding "event" before Kate went off to college and everything changed. Deciding that the best thing for them would be to meet their favourite author, Johanna dragged Kate out the door and to Barnes and Noble at the ungodly hour of 9am…on a Saturday…during the summer. When they got there, the line was already nearly out the door and Richard Castle wasn't even expected to arrive for another thirty minutes. Hugging _Death of a Prom Queen_ to her chest, Kate leaned against the closest wall and closed her eyes. When Castle finally arrived, Kate had managed a small catnap and was starting to get excited. By time they reached the front, Kate had become so tongue-tied that Johanna had to tell Castle who to dedicate the book to. He had been really sweet about it and even spent a minute or two talking with them just to help make Kate more at ease._

Looking around, Kate was having trouble meshing her vision of the man she had met as a freshly graduated high school student and the man who was currently inspiring legions of scantily clad women to line up to meet him. What if he had changed? What if he was no longer the man she had met and was now an insufferable playboy? Reaching the front of the line, Kate braced herself for disappointment, walked up to the table and set her book before the man.

"Who should I make this out to?"

"Kate. Kate Beckett."


End file.
